


That's My Spot

by RuminantRambling



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28375674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuminantRambling/pseuds/RuminantRambling
Summary: Extremely particular, pedantic and annoying reader prefers everything to be exactly just so.Hubert is annoying
Kudos: 5





	That's My Spot

You’re the best healer at Garreg Mach. You teach new techniques and spells to Manuela. If there is any research that needs to be done, you are the first person that they reach out to. Crushed bones? You can mend them together in your sleep. Identifying poisons? One of your specialties of course. You have a huge section blocked off in the greenhouse for your specialized herbs and plants. So why do you not work in the infirmary? Because your bedside manner leaves much to be desired. You can handle any unconscious person, but as soon as they start talking to you, it pisses you off and you say things that healers are not supposed to say.   
Manuela’s favorites:  
Shut the fuck up or I will let you die.   
Move one more time and I will break this leg again and leave you.  
Leave me to my work. I don’t appreciate your staring. One more minute of you and I will scoop your eyes out with a dull, rusty spoon. (This is her favorite, most likely because you said it to Hubert as he was watching you work on an unconscious Edelgard. You don’t like an audience.)  
Nobody knows it is you healing them, bringing them back from the brink of death because once they are conscious you are gone. Antisocial is your middle name. You have no friends except for books. You do nothing beyond medical treatment. Your food is delivered to your room every day. You are in the infirmary, your room, or the library.   
There are no problems until the war begins. Then Manuela is pestering you to join them in Enbarr. She finally convinces you that you would have the same arrangements there. You will be left to your studies, not required to take any infirmary shifts, given your own laboratory and a small private greenhouse.   
You settle in the Imperial palace well enough. You go to the library and begin to peruse every book they have on healing, poisons, and anything you feel may be useful to your research. After a few days you have found the perfect reading spot. There is a superb amount of light, the chair is very cushioned and low. You cannot feel any drafts, it blocks out most of the noise of others and is not obviously in sight of anyone that may wander about the library. A table sits at the perfect height for your notes and ink pot. A formerly empty shelf holds the most recent books you are reading. This is your spot. For three weeks not one person has disturbed your studies. Bliss.  
This morning you turn the corner, coffee in hand, to see that someone is sitting where they do not belong.   
“This is my spot.” You complain.   
“Hmmm..since when.” Hubert scowls, not looking up from the book he is reading.   
“This is the perfect spot for my reading and research. This chair does not suit you. You are very tall and your knees are higher than the seat itself. It is difficult for you to raise yourself to a standing position due to the low height of the seat.” You nag.  
“I find it comfortable.” The dark mage smirks.  
“Go find a chair for tall people. Chairs that allow my feet to touch the floor suitably are few and far between. You would think Emperor Edelgard would have more chairs suited to those with smaller stature such as ourselves around here.” You grumble, taking a sip of your coffee, looking daggers at the dark haired man hiding behind his curtain of hair.   
“I’m staying.” He growls stubbornly.   
“Fine.” You huff. You place your coffee on the table, retrieve the book you have been reading from the shelf and then climb up and seat yourself onto his lap.   
“What is this nonsense.” Hubert cries, his hands go up in the air as you climb upon him, using the collar and lapel of his jacket to pull yourself onto him.   
You are seated facing to his right. Taking your book in hand and removing your parchment that is marking your page, you begin to read where you left off.   
Hubert appears quite confused, frowning at you. People are normally intimidated by him. Raising a single eyebrow can clear an entire room. To suddenly find himself being used as a piece of furniture by someone that is a half a foot shorter than Lady Edelgard is…concerning.   
“What do you think you are doing?” He chastises.  
You ignore him, reaching for your inkwell so that you can copy some notes from the book.   
“Explain yourself.” The dark mage demands, a small concentration of dark magic begins to gather in his right hand.  
“This is my spot. I am taking what is mine. Shut up or I will silence you.” You wave your hand, dispelling the magic that is gathering in his hand and return to your writing.   
“Do you have any idea how many different ways I can kill you?” He leers at you menacingly.  
“Do you have any idea how many times I have brought your sorry ass back from the brink of death?” You stick your index finger in his face, nearly stabbing his nose. “Removing poison laden knives from your ribs, stuffing your intestines back into your gut at two in the morning when you warp back from a messy mission, repairing cracks in your skull when you come back from a battle with a lance wielding lunatic. That’s just the start. Do you think that libidinous sot Manuela is the one that pieces you together? I’ve done everything short of reattaching your head to your neck. You need me. Your Emperor and the Strike Force needs me. Shut it, you ungrateful git.”  
Hubert’s head jerks back involuntarily. He’s not certain if he wants to blast you with a mire spell or laugh. The fact that you do not fear him in any way amuses him. He shifts in the chair slightly and decides to continue reading his book while attempting to ignore you.   
Time passes quietly for several hours. You simply concentrate on your research.   
“Ahem.” Hubert clears his throat.   
“Now what.” You roll your eyes.   
“I must head to the kitchens to test the food for Emperor Edelgard’s lunch.” He says flatly.   
You continue reading. Why should you cooperate when he has not cooperated with you?  
After a minute the tall dark haired man puts his book down. He sees that you are taking no action to remove yourself from his lap. He puts his hands under your arms, lifting you and placing you standing on the ground. He frowns as he has difficulty getting up from the chair as you had stated, however he brings himself to standing, refusing to not give you the satisfaction of telling him ‘I told you so.’ Without another word he leaves the area.   
Scrambling onto your chair, your beloved spot, you continue your work.   
\--------------  
Several weeks pass by. Your spot is safe and sacred most days. However, just to annoy you-of that you are certain-Hubert is planted in your chair one day per week. Just for spite he places large and uncomfortable items in his pockets, hoping to annoy you. You did not sit close to his body, just upon his legs which are very long and it is no problem to be perched closer to his knees. One day he decides to warp away, dragging you with him. Unfortunately for him, he arrives at his destination in that oddly shaped position causing him to fall flat on his ass and you landing across him. You cuss a blue streak at him as you leave and return to the library.   
\--------------  
These are times of war, and as the army goes, so must the medical staff. You shove away a crying and gasping Linhardt as a barely breathing Caspar with more blood on the outside than on the inside is brought before you. Your magic glows brightly in the blocked off section of the medical tent as you work miracles. Caspar is moved from your surgical table to a clean cot, no blood seen on the outside any longer, his color is amazing considering all that he has been through.   
Another battle a few weeks later has Dorothea rescuing a freshly speared Ferdinand, the spear sticking through him completely and exiting his back on the left side. Only Hubert dares to approach your sequestered surgery for brief observations. Your eyebrows heavily furrowed in a frown of concentration, your low worktable containing Ferdinand and multiple metal instruments and vials. Your right arm is nearly up to the elbow inside the man, glowing brightly with healing magic. You work on him for several hours before you finally sew the front exterior wound shut. You clean him from head to toe, addressing every wound on his person, continually going back to his abdomen, concentrating and sending magic to specific areas to treat. Slowly you drip concoctions into his mouth, massaging his throat to assist him with swallowing. One last check listening to his breathing, listening to his gut, then you send him to a bed for recovery. Quickly you clean everything and are ready for the next patient to put back together.   
\-----------------  
Back in Enbarr you are allowed two weeks of uninterrupted time in your spot. Your reprieve is broken this day. Hubert sits sipping his coffee as you turn the corner. He places his cup down upon a shelf and pats his lap.  
You hesitate, take a deep breath and place your coffee cup down on your table. Hubert lifts you onto his lap and rests his chin on top of your head as he hugs you gently around your waist.   
Placing his cheek on the crown of your head he says, “Thank you.” in a deep, soft voice.   
You close your eyes. “I don’t ask for thanks. I’m doing my job.” You say, trying so hard to not reveal how much this means to you.   
Hubert hugs you a bit tighter and you involuntarily sigh. He leans back keeping you close to his chest, his cheek still resting on your head.   
Maybe, you think, it is time to have a friend.


End file.
